Scandalous Brides

by Annette Blair

  Her eyes sparkling, Anna turned to Colette. “You and I are going to open a school for seamstresses in White Chapel.”

  An understanding smile lifted Colette’s weathered face. “Tres bien. That is an idea most good, my lady.”

  ~ ~ ~

  HAVERSTOCK STIFLED A YAWN as he attempted to decode a message from one of his men in the field. He had fitfully tossed and turned throughout the night, unable to sleep, fighting the yearning to go to Anna. Yet, his anger stopped him. No, anger was not the right emotion. Disillusionment was closer to the mark. His wife was an enigma. On the one hand, she was the loving innocent with whom he shared a touching intimacy; on the other, a scheming hoyden who got Morgie drunk and most likely cheated to take possession of his substantial funds. This same hoyden had conducted herself like a trollop at Lord Wentworth’s.

  As he had done so many times before, Haverstock wondered why Anna so fiercely wanted Morgie’s money when her own fortune supplied everything she could ever need. Perhaps his mother had been right. Something about Anna’s innocence did not ring true. While he cherished the maidenhead she brought to their marriage bed, he questioned her scruples. Was she a scheming seductress who delighted in manipulating men? Was he, indeed, bewitched by the daughter of Annette de Mouchet?

  The thought disturbed him. Until last night when her actions enraged him, he had been totally smitten with her. Did she know what power she held over him? What a weakling he had been for a lovely face and soft, compliant body. Well, he would show her! He would have to resist the temptation of her lovemaking and free himself of the bonds of her entrapment.

  He could never free himself with the divorce his mother so eagerly sought. After all, Anna was his wife. She could be carrying his child at this very minute. Lord knows they had ample opportunities to conceive. He would always be responsible for her.

  He vowed to devote himself so much to his work he would have little time to dwell on Anna and her bewitchment. If he did not have to behold her loveliness, he could resist her and maintain his dignity. He would be safe from her charms while he continued to take her into society, but he would not himself be alone with her. And she would never again have the opportunity to humiliate him as she had done with Sir Henry.

  His thoughts turned to his work, still troubled over Monsieur Hebert’s announcement that a traitor lurked in the London office. Who could it be? If only he could learn the wretched creature’s identity.

  ~ ~ ~

  THE POSIES BEGAN ARRIVING at Haverstock House long before the gentlemen sending them started calling on the lovely sisters, putting the household in a flurry of excitement. Abigails scurried about with freshly pressed dresses and hair combs in an effort to render the ladies suitably attired to greet their bevy of admirers.

  It fell to Anna to provide chaperonage, since the dowager had made known her own refusal to leave her chamber. As Lydia conveyed her mother’s message to Anna, she blundered. “I declare I do not know what has come over Mother these past weeks. She seldom leaves her room. Why, since Charles’s marriage—”

  Anna’s stricken face halted Lydia in mid sentence.

  “Oh, I am so very sorry, Anna,” Lydia whispered, her face flaming.

  “I daresay your mother cannot help but resent me.”

  Lydia walked to the dressing table where Anna sat and embraced her sister-in-law. “Give her time,” Lydia said. “When Mother knows you better, she will accept you as she does her own daughters.”

  “Forgive me for saying I do not find that comforting, given what I perceive as your mother’s lack of maternal affection.”

  Lydia sank on Anna’s bed, her brows plunging together. “You are right. Mother has never been overly affectionate to her daughters. I believe it was because her own mother died when she was but a toddler. She had no example of motherly devotion. All of her love was directed at her sister, Aunt Margaret. You know Aunt Margaret was your father’s wife?”

  Anna’s eyes widened. “I did not,” she said softly. “It explains so very much.”

  “Mama and Aunt Margaret were like two bodies sharing one heart. When Aunt Margaret suffered in her marriage, Mother felt it just as keenly. I believe it is because of your mother’s role in Aunt Margaret’s unhappiness that mother resents you.”

  Anna nodded solemnly and did not speak for some time. “You said your mother has shown little affection to her daughters. What about her sons?”

  “Though you have probably observed little evidence of it, Mother has always been terribly wrapped up in Charles. He always had to have the best. He had to be at the top of his class. And Charles being Charles, he endeavored to please. Only in his choice of a wife was he not guided by her. She has always made it clear she wanted him to marry Lady Jane Wyeth.” Meeting Anna’s pensive gaze, Lydia added, “I don’t think the woman has been born who would be good enough for Charles in Mother’s eyes.”

  Anna’s chamber door whipped open, and Charlotte came flying into the room, wearing a posy of wilted pansies. “Oh, Anna, Mr. Hogart is downstairs as we speak. Can you please accompany me now?”

  Though Anna wanted to know more about Lady Jane Wyeth, this was no time to ask. She rose from the dressing table, giving a last fleeting glance into her looking glass at her peach-colored muslin. “Of course.” Turning to Lydia, she asked, “Do you accompany us?”

  “I wouldn’t think of missing the opportunity to meet the paragon, Mr. Hogart.”

  By the time the three ladies entered the saloon, several other expectant young bucks awkwardly occupied chairs throughout the room. As hostess, Anna greeted them first, then ordered tea. Within minutes Cynthia and Kate—both dressed to perfection in Madam Devreaux’s creations—sailed into the room with smiling faces.

  To Anna’s astonishment, Kate fixed her attention on a Mr. Reeves, whom Anna judged to be forty years old. He possessed neither title nor good looks. He squeezed into clothing he must have worn when he weighed two stone less. His fleshy chin sunk into his highly starched cravat, and the top of his balding head reflected the afternoon sun that shafted into the room.

  Anna watched with interest as Cynthia singled out the dashing Captain Smythe, who appeared to appreciate Cynthia’s fair beauty as much as Cynthia was attracted to his handsomeness. Anna appreciated Cynthia’s taste. Captain Smythe’s broad shoulders filled his red coat with its highly polished buttons. He was tall and dark with a ready smile and elegant manners.

  Though Anna knew with certainty four men now in this room had sent flowers to Charlotte, Charlotte chose to wear the pitiful bouquet sent from the modest Mr. Hogart. Anna observed that no one except Charlotte spoke to the common-looking man and was reminded of Kate’s remark that he stuck out like a sty on the eye. Indeed, the poor man was as out of place with these pinks of the ton as a briar patch at Kew Gardens.

  Except for his limp white shirt, he dressed entirely in black, in clothing that had long ago fallen from fashion. A slight man of medium height, he looked much younger than the other men in the room. His hair was still a pale blond, framing a too-earnest face. Despite his lack of fashionable clothes, Mr. Hogart, with his clear blue eyes and fine nose, exuded an elegance of person. Anna decided she quite liked the boy.

  “Charlotte tells me you plan to be a minister,” Anna said to Mr. Hogart as she handed him his tea. “Church of England?”

  He clumsily took the cup. “No, my lady. I am a Methodist.”

  The banter of a dozen young people suddenly stopped and all eyes riveted to the ill-dressed Mr. Hogart. Had he said he was a Buddhist, they could not have been more repelled, Anna thought.

  “How very interesting,” Anna said, forcing a smile. “I confess to having found Mr. Wesley’s tracts rather thought provoking.”

  “If only my parents were as enlightened as you,” Hogart said. “They do not approve of my choice.”

  “What is it they wanted for you?” Charlotte asked timidly, admiration in her eyes.

  “My father had hoped I would take over his fa
rms.”

  “He is a squire?” Anna asked.

  He nodded.

  Turning her attention to Captain Smythe, Anna asked him to tell the gathering about his activities on the Peninsula, which he did, fully enrapturing Cynthia. Even Kate, who scorned him as a second son, seemed to hang on his every word.

  As darkness began to fall, Haverstock entered the salon, his eyes meeting Anna’s first, then addressing the visiting gentlemen.

  Anna noted with pride that he did not scorn Mr. Hogart as the others had. She scooted over on the sofa so Charles could sit next to her, but he remained standing, pacing the room. He refused Anna’s offer of tea and seemed preoccupied with his own thoughts.

  After the callers took their leave, the sisters queried Haverstock.

  “Did you find Captain Smythe to be possessed of all that is agreeable?” Cynthia asked.

  “Though Mr. Hogart is much reserved, I could tell you liked him,” Charlotte said. “Didn’t you, Charles?”

  Haverstock stroked his sisters with the responses they desired. Meeting Kate’s gaze, he said, “Did I detect a preference on your part for Mr. Reeves?”

  She nodded, her lashes coyly sweeping downward.

  “How can this be?” Charlotte asked. “You spurned the man two seasons ago.”

  “But that was before it was known that he stood to succeed Blassingame’s dukedom. It seems His Grace of Blassingame failed to sire sons,” Kate said. “And Mr. Reeves is his nephew,” she announced brightly.

  Cynthia whirled at her elder sister. “Do you mean to say you would marry Mr. Reeves solely to become a duchess?”

  Kate held her shoulders regally, her eyes dancing. “Why should I be content to be a mere lady when I could be a duchess?”

  “That is positively irksome!” Charlotte protested.

  “You won’t find it so irksome when I am addressed as Her Grace,” Kate said, strolling toward the doors. “I don’t know about you girls, but I for one must select a gown for tonight.”

  Her sisters began discussing what they would wear as they followed Kate from the room.

  Anna turned warm eyes to her husband. “Won’t you come to my chamber, Charles?”

  “I think not, my dear,” he said. “There are matters I must discuss with my secretary.”

  Swallowing her disappointment, Anna reminded him of the ball they would attend that night.

  “Be assured I will escort you, Anna,” he said, his eyes cold obsidian. “I dare not leave you alone lest you seduce every blood in breeches.”

  Blood rushed to her cheeks and she hissed, “That’s unfair, Charles!” She lifted her skirts and ran from the room before he could see her cry.

  THIRTEEN

  ASMILE FIXED ON HER FACE, Anna pretended to listen to her sisters’ chatter in the carriage ride home from the ball, but her thoughts were on her husband, who now sat silently beside her. She had felt like a fairy princess all night as her Charles, her Prince Charming, lavished attentions on her. He had danced with no woman other than her. He had solicitously procured ratafia for her and her sisters whenever they gave the slightest appearance of being thirsty. He had hovered over her all night, his hands caressing or stroking her in a tender fashion.

  But now, with no one but family to observe, he shunned her, brooding in his corner of the carriage, and she knew the entire night had been a sham. In public, he would appear the devoted husband while distancing himself from her when they were alone. Why had this bleeding rift occurred between Charles and her? She had to repair it. How else could she learn the truth about his French activities? It was unthinkable to admit there was any other reason for her deep concern.

  The swift rounding of a corner pushed Anna against her husband. She felt the heat of him, the comfort of his sturdiness and yearned to feel the length of him pressed against her. Demurely casting her gaze at his somber face, she swallowed her disappointment over his refusal to look at her. With constricted heart, she studied the grim set to his mouth and achingly remembered a time not so many weeks past when those same lips had the power to make her pulse leap with desire.

  ~ ~ ~

  WHEN THEY ARRIVED at Haverstock House, he climbed the stairs beside Anna and wished her a curt good-night at her chamber door.

  “There are some matters I hoped to discuss with you,” Anna said. “Won’t you come sit in my chamber for a few minutes?”

  He gazed into the wide-eyed innocence of her face. Though he had determined to resist her seductive hold on him, he found no power to deny her simple request.

  She led him to the settee by the crackling fire and bid him to sit on it next to her.

  “I don’t want to interfere with your morning rides with Lydia,” she began, “but I desire to join you. That day in the park, you did vow to teach me about horses. I would like you to select a calm mount for me and allow me and a groom to accompany you each morning. The groom could instruct me while you and Lydia take a galloping romp.”

  He remembered the fear that had gripped him when he had heard her screams and watched, terrified, as the furiously pounding grays carried her away. He remembered the desperation he had felt when he thought he was losing Anna. She did need to learn about handling horses. “You can begin tomorrow,” he said.

  “One more thing,” she said. “Will you be taking me back to the park promenade any time soon?” she asked.

  “Not in the foreseeable future for my work is most pressing.”

  The flicker of disappointment that passed over her face oddly pleased him.

  “Then I solicit your permission to ask Morgie to take Lydia and me to the park some afternoons. After my faux pas at the Wentworth Ball, I want to seek your permission before I spend a minute in the presence of another man.”

  “Morgie is not another man. You are at liberty to be in Morgie’s presence whenever you like, but I do prefer that you take Lydia along.” He got to his feet and bent over her, placing a chaste peck on her cheek. “I’ll see you in riding habit in the morning, my lady.”

  When he reached the door, she called his name.

  He turned, cocking an eyebrow.

  “Are you still angry at me?”

  God’s teeth but he wanted her! “I was not so much mad as disappointed, my dear,” he said, opening the door and leaving the room.

  As he tossed restlessly in his big empty bed, he wondered why his power to resist her brought him no joy.

  ~ ~ ~

  DRESSED IN CYNTHIA’S RIDING HABIT, Anna met Lydia in the entry hall the following morning, and the two women sailed past the footman who held open the door. Amidst a shroud of fog, Haverstock and the groom held reign to four horses on the cobblestone street below.

  Running his eyes appreciatively over Anna, Haverstock said, “That color becomes you, my dear.”

  She glanced at the deep green velvet. “I borrowed it from Cynthia.” Fighting back tears when her husband had curtly taken leave of her the night before, Anna had immediately scurried to Cynthia’s room to secure a suitable habit, for the two women were near the same size.

  “The bold color suits you far better than Cynthia,” he said, cinching his huge hands about the span of her slim waist and lifting her on to the gray.

  Displeased over her husband’s backhanded compliment, Anna shot him a narrowed glance.

  He placed the ribbons in her hands. “The first thing you need to learn is that when you pull on these, the horse will slow.” Haverstock nodded at the groom. “Jimmy and I selected this easy stepper for you.”

  Anna defiantly turned her attention to the groom. “So you’re Jimmy.” She scrutinized the young man from the top of his curly mop of blond hair to his mud-splattered boots planted firmly on the street. He was tall, though not as tall as Charles, and looked as if his recently sprouted limbs still awaited the meaty flesh that would come with age. She hoped he would suit her plans.

  He bowed. “Yes, me lady.”

  Stroking her horse’s mane, she asked, “And what is his name?” />
  Jimmy stifled a laugh. “’is name is Lady Gray.”

  “I do hope my ignorance of horses will not try your patience too sorely.”

  “I have confidence yer ladyship will be riding with the best of ’em in no time,” the groom said.

  Haverstock’s eyes flashed mischievously. “My wife, I have found, is a prodigious student.”

  Remembering her husband’s tutelage on lovemaking, Anna felt the heat rise to her cheeks.

  Jimmy gave Lydia a leg up while Haverstock mounted his bay, and guided it alongside his wife. He rode next to Anna all the way to the park, soothing her fears and giving her rudimentary instructions about handling horses.

  When they reached the park, Anna urged him and Lydia to go on in their usual manner while she and Jimmy stayed back.

  Haverstock would not go until he delivered instructions to the groom. “Jimmy, my good man, I leave my wife in your hands. Please see that she doesn’t get herself killed. She knows nothing of horses.”

  “Really, Charles,” Lydia said, “You’ll have poor Jimmy afraid to blink his eyes.”

  Once Haverstock and his sister were no longer in sight, Anna turned to Jimmy. “I must confess to not being totally honest with you, Jimmy. While I do desire to learn to ride, what I desire most is your help in protecting my husband.”

  “Yer husband is a noted whip, me lady. He hardly needs me help.”

  “I do not fear he will break his neck. What I fear is that he will stop a musket ball.”

  Jimmy’s eyes widened.

  “I’m deathly afraid someone means to kill him, and I would like you to keep a protective eye on him.”

  “I’ll do more than that, me lady,” he said through gritted teeth. “If I sees anyone trying to harm me master, I’ll kill ’em with me bare hands.”

  Anna shot an appreciative glance at his large hands. “I shouldn’t like to put you in danger.”

  “Don’t fret over me. We both got to make sure Lord Haverstock stays ’ealthy.” He gave her a knowing wink.